Poetry, poem, thoughts, reflection

December magicĀ 

    There’s magic in your very core. 
    Figures become shadows 
    Voices fall like feather 
    When I stand there, listening to you. 

    Your magic takes in colors.
    And just like that, with that one gentle brush stroke, 
    You paint me in unimagined colors. 

    The palette of what if
    has never been this comforting. 
    The canvas of so what 
    has never been this real. 

    The art you drew upon my spirit fills me 
    with a kind of happiness that can last 
    a lifetime. 

    Advertisements
    Standard
    Poetry, poem, thoughts, reflection

    The subliminal catch

    I was meant to know you from afar.
    The rearrangement and collision of things made sure that we’d walk right past each other.

    It’s strange how the world stages its play.
    It gives me the illusion of drama.
    And it gives you the reality of walking past a stranger.

    I wouldn’t change the way things are.
    I love mystery.
    I love the subliminal catch.

    I trust the scheme of things and the world’s grand plan.
    They will not steal my idea of you.
    So stay where you are — when you’re miles away and when you’re inches away.

    At some point, our paths will never cross.
    No harm done, no energy invested.
    Because I know, for a brief moment,
    I was only meant to look at you from afar.

    Standard